Our Own World
by ChakiChu
Summary: Okazaki didn’t understand why he was here. Sitting in this room…listening to the enlightened chatter down below between Sanae and Akio…it just didn’t fit. It just didn’t feel…right. He felt as if he was a stranger reborn in a strange world. oneshot


Okazaki didn't really understand why he was here. Sitting in this room…listening to the enlightened chatter down below between Sanae and Akio…it just didn't fit. It just didn't feel…_right_. He felt as if he was a stranger reborn in a strange world.

_This is a world that has ended. This room with its table and chair are the only things remaining – everything else is gone. Outside the window the snow slowly drifts down from the sky, in this cold, endless world. _

Yet here he was, sitting surrounded by an empire of _Dango Daikazoku_ plush toys. It was weird…at first, when he first walked into the room, he thought the plush toys were all the same – an analogous lump that seemed to flow on endlessly around the room…The girl had them stashed everywhere: on top of her bed, on her desk, on top of her bookshelf, along the ground…he was sure that he saw some poking out from under her closet door, too. As he looked closer, however, he noticed that each seemed to have…a personality. He thought he was insane for thinking so – I mean, who in their right mind would think a plush toy had a personality? – but each seemed to have its own air surrounding it. He smiled to himself; somehow, together the plush toys formed one big family – just like the song said.

His eyes wandered to the door, left slightly ajar as the room's inhabitant went downstairs to get a few snacks. If he tried hard enough, Okazaki could hear her talking with Sanae trying to pick what type of snack to eat. Okazaki didn't really care, after all, what was a night-time snack to a delinquent? He felt as if he was in third grade as it was, there was no need for a snack to add to that humiliation.

Why was he here in the first place? Couldn't he had just said "no" when asked if he wanted to come for dinner that afternoon? Why does he care about some silly drama club anyways? Those were the questions he kept asking himself as he waited in absolute silence. He was in pain; he was torn between staying and trying to accept a degree of "normalcy" (he pondered over how this could be considered normal) and going home to someplace he would rather forget. For just going home would mean facing him once more…how could that be called a home? Clearly, he and him were two separate people, with two separate lives only connected by…

_A girl lives here…in this cold and endless world. She spends her time just existing – what a terrible fate, being forced to spend your life in someplace as cold and lonely as this one. I watch her – the only sign of warmth in this terrible place._

"Sorry to keep you waiting." His thoughts were interrupted. Okazaki looked up from his spot on the floor to see her smiling. Her light auburn hair seemed to glisten in the dim lamp-light, her eyes sparkling with some sort of innocent integrity. Maybe she was why he was here.

"Is something wrong?" She moved carefully around him – as if she was afraid to get to close. Or maybe, maybe she didn't _want_ to get to close. Because he was a delinquent, somebody so innocent, so pure, should surely have doubts about spending time with him…

"Its nothing." Okazaki said coarsely, in his usual, dry tone.

"Shall we get to work?" Her face seemed to glow when she smiled like that. That single face seemed to have the ability to erase every single one of Okazaki's doubts, leaving him in a state of temporary peace with himself. Maybe that was why he was here.

_I watch the girl intently. What is she thinking? Why is she here? I ponder to myself as time passes. Or maybe time doesn't pass at all – because this world has ended. Nothing can live, nothing can die._

Time slowly passed. Okazaki watched her sitting at her desk, writing intently. Her whole being seemed to be involved with her story, as if she could recreate the world surrounding her into some fantasy tale.

_Time still passes. I know it does now because I watch the girl wander in and out of this room and return with fragments of this worlds past, bits and pieces of junk that would be useless to anybody else. She assembles the junk, as if trying to recreate a memory from some world unknown to everybody else. I can feel her warmth pulse through this cold and dark world. I wonder…can you sense me too?_

"Done!" Okazaki jolts up, half asleep. He looks up, surprised to meet her eyes seemingly burning straight through to his heart. "I finished my story." She smiled. Okazaki was speechless.

"Do you want to read it?" Her gaze turned quizzical, trying to judge his reaction again. To make sure she stays away…he reminded himself once again.

"Why not…" Okazaki sighed, and accepted the pieces of paper she gave to him. He wasn't surprised to see the play was written on _Dango Daikazoku_ stationary. He sighed again, and slowly started to read the first few lines aloud.

"This room with its table and chair are the only things remaining – everything else is gone. Outside the window the snow slowly drifts down from the sky, in this cold, endless world…"

_But yet…this world is still alive. There is a girl here. She is why this world exists – she is why this world is still alive. Without her, this world would have ended. Can you see me? I ask endlessly. And slowly…as her pile of junk grows into some deformed vessel, she starts to see me too._

"_Do you want to join me…in this world?"_

_She extends her hand out to me. I reach back in frustration – I'm not a part of this world; I can't feel her warmth. Yet she smiles…as if she can tell I'm trying with all my might just to reach her._

"_Don't be afraid…" She says, as the world around me turns to light. Seconds before all is black, I feel a small glow from where our hands "met". Maybe being born into this world isn't a bad thing. Maybe…maybe, I belong here._

"So…what did you think?" Okazaki looked up, shocked. This story…the words kept echoing through his head. He couldn't understand it. How did she understand? Suddenly, he didn't feel like a delinquent anymore…for now. He didn't know who he was. He wasn't the ex-basketball star, nor was he a delinquent. He was just…there. Watching the snow fall outside slowly, drifting down to the cold and lifeless Earth.

"It was…good." Okazaki smiled, and watched as her face slowly changed from mild shock to pure joy. If she understood…were there others? Maybe he was just one of many trying to find his place in the world, trying to just make it to the next day.

"Thank you." She bowed slightly from where she was standing, and sat back down in her desk chair and looked down at him. Her eyes were quizzical once again. Did he do something wrong? Of course – he probably offended her somehow. Okazaki looked away and stared back at the floor.

"Is something wrong?" This time, it was his chance to ask.

"No…I was just thinking…" She paused, her face conveying the frustration she felt when she was unable to find the words to express her feelings.

"…Doesn't it feel like…we're in our own world right now?"

"…Yea, Furukawa, it does."

_Our own world…together._

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Comment if you liked! And please let me know if there are any blaring errors with this - I know the whole Dream World thing if off...but I did it from memory :D


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